Children's Day
by Mishiko Shinsei
Summary: AU. Prequel to 'Second Best.' First in series. Disclaimer: Just own the words, not the folks.


Disclaimer: Just own the words, not the folks.

 **Children's Day**

He's annoying.

Always smiling at me.

Acting like I mean something more to him than just the man who signs his paycheck.

I'd probably have fired him the first time he tried talking to me if Mokuba hadn't been responding so well to him.

Mokuba hadn't wanted a tutor. But he'd lost a lot of time from schooling when I was…not myself…and then while I was in a coma and during Duelist Kingdom, Battle City, and that DOMA fiasco. I'd then decided not to even attempt getting him back to school until after the KC Grand Prix. I knew that he needed some time and assistance to get back to his normal self without a lot of outside interference. Public school was out of the question and the local private schools weren't up to my standards. A private tutor made sense.

Mokuba had attached himself to Ian Takeda almost immediately, which wasn't surprising, considering the man's engaging, amiable manner. I'd expected Mokuba to balk at his obvious overtures, but I suppose my bother's extended isolation had made him lonelier than I thought.

Looking up from my desk to glance at their lesson, I note more of Mokuba's continued improvement in his studies as well as his personality. He's been so…sullen and withdrawn after all that we've been through in the last year and a half. I know that my necessary attendance at Kaiba Corp., for extensive lengths of time, didn't help matters, but it was imperative that I stabilize my company. Without my presence, Kaiba Corp. would surely have fallen to ruin.

Turning back to my work, I try to overlay Mokuba's forlorn and despondent looks from that time, with the smiling and delighted ones from now.

Maybe I haven't completely failed him yet.

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No matter how much I glare at him, he continues smiling at me. It reminds me of those friendship freaks led by Yugi Motou.

It is truly annoying.

If I hadn't personally done a thorough background check of Takeda before I hired him, I'd swear that he was part of that irritating group of fools.

Or not, since he's a Todai graduate and nearly a decade older than all of them; except maybe that Kujaku woman. If I recall she's 23 or 24 and Takeda is 25.

At Mokuba's laughter, I look up again to find him and Takeda sharing a moment of fun.

And then he smiles at me again. Idiot.

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"Please, big brother," Mokuba whines with his wide, watery gaze and practiced pout. "Can we please invite Ian to dinner on Friday?"

I resist the urge to smile at his antics. I probably should scold him for trying to manipulate me that way, but frankly, I'm surprised that he's willing to go so far to get me to agree. It's not exactly proper 13 year old behavior.

"And what if I say no?" I remark, enjoying his sputtering at my stern tone and face.

Then he surprises me with his own serious demeanor.

"Seto," he sighs. "I'm worried about you. All you do is work. You barely sleep and never do anything fun."

I balk at him and begin to refute his statements, but he talks right over me.

"I just want you to be happy too, Seto!" he asserts. "You're always taking care of me and making sure that I'm happy, but what about you? Don't you deserve some happiness too?"

"I –" I'm sure how to respond to his outburst because I had never thought about my own happiness before. Making Mokuba happy is what drives me; I didn't care about anything else.

"Please, Seto," Mokuba pleads once more, this time without his coercive face. If that idiot's attendance will make him happy how could I deny his request?

"Fine," I agree. "I'll let Nanako know to prepare for a guest."

"Thanks, big brother!" he exclaims, flinging himself into my arms.

I hold him tightly a moment before pushing him back to respond to his earlier assertion.

"I'm happy if you're happy, Mokuba," I explain. "Don't worry about me."

"But I want you to be happy for yourself, Seto," he frowns. "You've already done so much for me. I want you to do something for yourself."

"And you think that inviting Takeda to dinner is 'doing something for myself'?" I tease lightly, though I do wonder at the implication. After all, it's not as though I speak to the man other than standard greetings and as necessary for Mokuba.

I'm a little surprised by the light blush creeping across his features.

"Mokuba?"

"I-I just thought…" he stammers.

"Thought what, Mokuba?"

"I mean, you talk to him. You didn't talk to any of the other people who worked with me, so I thought…" he trails off with an even brighter blush.

Talk to him? I don't talk to him. And even if I did…

"Mokuba, are you trying to set me up with him?"

"Well…"

I nod in understanding. Ever since Mokuba discovered my preferences, he's been even more certain that I'll wind up alone and miserable.

"No, Mokuba."

"But you already agreed!"

"Mokuba, I don't need you picking dates for me. Besides, you don't know if he is even open to the idea…"

"But you talk to him!" he interrupts, as though that's all that matters.

"Mokuba, I talk to him about you and offer standard greetings. That's all," I reason.

"But that's more than you did with Hayata and Noriko," he replies. "You sent them e-mails and memos when you discussed me. Remember?"

Hayata was Mokuba's governess for about 6 months after Gozaboro died. She was a strict, matronly woman who treated Mokuba like a little prince. She was quite competent, but I had no interest in speaking with her personally.

Noriko is Mokuba's driver. What would we have to talk about other than driving Mokuba around?

"Mokuba, that's hardly the same…"

"It is, Seto. You don't speak to anyone who doesn't interest you in some way."

"Mokuba…"

"It's just dinner, Seto. You could talk about me the whole time if you want. Please?"

His sincerity and seriousness win me over.

"Fine," I relent.

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Takeda turns out to be an excellent dinner companion. Well-mannered, cultured, able to converse on several subjects; despite my earlier misgivings, I find myself enjoying the company.

Of course Mokuba notices my enjoyment and acts in what I presume he thinks is my best interest.

"I had a great time, Mr. Takeda," he gushes with that 'I'm-not-up-to-something' face. "We should do this again! Right, Seto?"

And the trap is sprung…

"I wouldn't be adverse to the idea," I reply casually.

"Great! How about next Friday then?" my little brother continues with his plan.

"I would be honored to dine with you again," Takeda smiles at me.

After tonight's encounter, I guess I can't actually call him an idiot anymore.

But he still reminds me of those friendship fools.


End file.
